


And a Partridge In a Pear Tree

by Lirillith



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: Christmas Party, Families of Choice, Family, Friendship, Gen, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2824583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirillith/pseuds/Lirillith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A family holiday means what you want it to mean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And a Partridge In a Pear Tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Andraste](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andraste/gifts).



When Nathan started up his lifelong love affair with the color pink, he had no idea it would ever turn out to be useful. He just liked pink. He liked its versatility — the way it could be hot or cold, soft or aggressive — and he liked the way most shades of it looked on him.

He discovered early how very eye-catching pink could be, especially on him. It took him some time to embrace the way pink could turn heads, crumble assumptions, throw people off-base, but once he did, he put it to use. He liked to accessorize: pink hair and pink high-heeled boots and broad shoulders in a dark hoodie; pink nails, a deep voice, and a high-value contract; a sweep of pink eyeshadow, glossy lips, and a sober three-piece suit with a pink tie. And, to liven up those last dragging meetings around the holidays, a deep fuchsia Santa Claus hat.

He wore _that_ to the training center, too, even though he stopped to trade in the suit for something a little more comfortable. It was mostly a matter of convenience, since he'd just be changing again at the center. Convenience, and plausible deniability; the distance between Nathan Seymour's identity and Fire Emblem's was about as wide as two tubes of lipstick, or maybe one tattoo, but no one could prove anything without getting into Justice Department files. Nathan didn't have Tiger's dedication to secret identities as a matter of principle, but Fire Emblem was his brainchild, an identity that didn't owe anything to anyone else. No parents, no sponsors: his own creation. He wasn't ashamed to admit he was attached to that.

A chorus of greetings met him when he entered the gym proper; it looked like almost everyone was there. All the better. "So, everyone," he said, clapping his hands lightly to get their attention; he heard the clatter of sparring swords die out, the clank of weights being lowered. "Who needs a Christmas party?"

The surprised exclamations were like beautiful music. When you wore pink eyeshadow even to lift weights, no one ever thought you were being sneaky.

He'd been working on this, asking individually. Karina had plans with her parents and extended family; Tiger was free Christmas Eve, but his Christmas morning was booked on a video call with Kaede; Sky High had Christmas Eve plans but nothing the next morning; and so on. Barnaby had plans, and refused to discuss them. Probably spending both the evening and the morning with the orphans at that children's home he'd been helping on the sly.

But half the heroes were on their own either for the 24th or the 25th. Someone had to do something about that.

Sure, they were always on call, but it was hard to get a good bank robbery and car chase underway when the banks were closed and the freeways almost empty. Hard to get a party arranged when your usual caterers and staff wanted to spend Christmas with the family, too, but Nathan couldn't leave his lost little ducklings lonely, and he wasn't above doing some of the work himself.

Pao-lin threw her arms around him, jabbing him in the back with her practice sword's hilt. "You're the _best,"_ she mumbled into his side, and he patted her hair fondly. Her complaints last year about an awkward office Christmas party and a lonely Christmas Day had been what put the idea in his head.

"Do I have to dress up?" she asked.

"Sweetie, would I do that to you?"

"I don't know about _needs,_ " Tiger hedged, but Nathan could reel him in no problem.

"Yeah, I'm pretty good with a chance to sleep in for once," Bison said.

"Don't worry, babe, when I get up I'll be quiet. You can sleep in till the party's ready to start."

"I didn't say I'd be sleeping in with _you._ "

"Spending Christmas Day with friends sounds perfect! Ideal!" It was possible that was just Sky High being Sky High, but he might also think he needed to express his preference for when it'd happen.

"No need to vote, sweeties. One on Christmas Eve and one on Christmas Day. Your choice if you want to show up. I'm sending you all the details." Nathan pulled up the PDA screen from his wristband and tapped send on the invites he had saved. He made a point of eye contact with Origami, or at least contact with the vicinity of Origami's eyes — Ivan really was overdue for a haircut — and smiled at him. Ivan looked down almost immediately, but he'd respond to email, and he didn't have any family in town.

It wasn't until after everyone else had dispersed back to their training that Karina approached him. "It's sweet of you to do that for everyone," she said.

"Mm. No one wants to be alone on Christmas, if they celebrate it." And no one wanted to be left out of something all the rest of their friends were doing. "Do you think you'll be able to ditch the family around lunch?"

"Probably. Everyone's going to be so busy with my little cousins no one will even notice I'm gone." She took a drink from her water bottle. "But what about you, Nathan? No family plans?"

This girl was too sharp for her own good. Or _his_ own good. "Honey, don't you remember? There's only ever one phoenix in the world. She lays her egg and goes up in flames and the next one hatches."

She poked him in the side. "Fine, be like that. What I really wish I could ditch is Christmas Eve. Dad's side of the family just has my one cousin who's in college, and it's always either deadly boring or there's a fight about politics."

He laughed. "And you just answered your own question about my family plans."

 

It wasn't always politics. Sometimes it was about Helios — Papa retiring didn't mean he'd given up having opinions — and sometimes it was about something else. Like his hero persona, too similar to his usual public face, not distinct enough, not enough of a secret identity; he should dial it down, be more subtle, stand out less. Drop the makeup in one identity, if not both. Stop risking his neck and driving like a maniac. Stop overworking himself.

Stop being a hero. Stop being himself.

Easier by far to send a card, have lunch with Mama later to catch up — _the holidays are so hectic,_ she'd always say, but then, she spent most of her time playing the hostess until after the new year — and then, if she'd driven him too crazy during that lunch, go spend a few hours at the training center to work off steam.

 

He wasn't a hostess on his mother's scale at the best of times, but a small dinner party and brunch the next day were well within his abilities. Maybe a little too much so; Bison and Tiger were the first to show up, and Bison surveyed the dining table with obvious trepidation.

"Pretty fancy," he said, in approximately the same tones he might have used to say "non-alcoholic beer."

"You think so?" A white tablecloth. Candles, not yet lit. A pink and gold artificial tree.

"You just think that because you won't be eating meat with your bare hands," Tiger said.

"That's—" Bison began, then cut off with a shriek when Nathan goosed him.

"Why are we even friends?" Bison grumbled mournfully, claiming one of the chairs to put his ass out of danger.

"Because you love me," Nathan told him, and gave Tiger a quick squeeze so he wouldn't feel left out. "You just won't admit it in public. And I pay for your drinks."

"Hey, you never pay for my drinks," Tiger protested, following him into the kitchen.

"I'm paying for whatever I'm about to pour you," he said. "What would you like?"

 

Getting a glass of wine into every guest's hands as early as possible had been one of the secrets to his mother's success, and while it wasn't necessarily required for a gathering like this, it still helped. Especially when poor little Origami showed up; no sooner had Nathan opened the door than there was a burst of loud laughter from the two men in the dining room, and the boy looked like he was ready to start ninja-lurking behind furniture like he used to do in his first season.

"Come in," Nathan said, pulling him through the foyer before he could try to take off his shoes. "You can put your coat in through here. Would you rather have red or white wine?"

"I'm not really old enough to drink."

"Pssh. Sky High's not here. A glass or two won't hurt you. And if you're not safe to drive, you can always crash here. I have guest rooms." He might joke about sleeping with Antonio or Kotetsu, but Origami and Sky High both flustered too easily.

Silence, and he couldn't see through that curtain of overgrown blond hair. "I think I may have some sake..."

His head came up at that, and Nathan beamed at him.

He didn't just have sake, he had a decanter and set of cups, and he left the three of them to sort out how to drink it and whether the temperature was right; it gave them something to break the ice. It was a shame Sky High would be with his sister's family this evening; he and Pao-lin were only two who'd had much luck pulling Ivan out of his shell on their off-duty hours. But Pao-lin was due soon, and that ought to help.

And Ivan was getting better. From the kitchen, he could hear them talking. Ivan's voice was too soft to carry, but he could hear the beats between Antonio's low rumble and Kotetsu's wry rasp, the two of them responding to the voice he couldn't hear. Good for Ivan, then.

 

Nathan was ready to toss and serve the salad when he heard the addition of another voice, higher-pitched than the two older men's, and stronger than Ivan's. He left the salad bowl on the counter and hurried out of the kitchen, wiping his hands.

"I didn't even hear the doorbell!" he exclaimed, as they hugged.

"I just knocked," Pao-lin said. "Tiger let me in. Something smells _delicious._ "

"Let's hope it is," he said. "Bison, darling, would you show her where she can leave her coat?"

"Aren't we on first names for the evening?"

"I can't help it," Nathan said. "I just think of you like a bison. Big, hairy, strrrrronnngg..."

"Smelly," Kotetsu added, and snickered at his own joke. Antonio shot him a glare.

"Fine, then. Antonio, dearest, would you mind?"

"You could lay off the dearest darling stuff," he grumbled, but he pushed his chair back and stood. "Through this way, Kid."

 

Nathan had worried about hosting a dinner party without any help on either the cooking or the service fronts, but with only four guests, it wasn't a problem. Especially these four guests. As soon as he was given permission, Kotetsu was happy to rummage through the silverware drawer or refill people's drinks, and Antonio carved the roast with gusto. Kotetsu's jokes about cows and beef didn't seem to slow him down in the least. Pao-lin was one of the best guests you could invite if you were the one cooking. She loved food loudly and enthusiastically, and she was a bottomless pit. Even Ivan got more relaxed as the evening progressed, though Nathan couldn't decide how much of that could be chalked up to his tiny cups of sake and how much to his comfort with the company.

"Ahh, that was good!" Pao-lin finally said, stretching like she'd just completed some lengthy task. "Did you really cook all of that yourself, Nathan?"

"I did!" And he wasn't much of a cook, so that was doubly good to hear. "First time I've cooked a multi-course meal like this."

Kotetsu pushed his plate away with a satisfied sigh of his own, and said, "Never thought I'd have this much fun at such a fancy party."

"That's two of you," he said. "I really didn't think this was that fancy." For one thing, he was the one clearing away the dishes. No hors d’oeuvres, no careful wine pairings, guests serving themselves; his mother would have been horrified, but he didn't have to do things Mama's way anymore.

"Well, y'know... multiple courses? Lemme guess, you're about to serve dessert."

"Busted."

It was just a cake, and not homemade, which was why it was so pretty; all he needed to do was bring it in on the cake stand and carefully slice and serve it. After Kotetsu took a picture of it, and then Pao-lin, and then Ivan.

"Well, Antonio? You don't want to be left out." He put one hand on his hip and waited while Antonio fished his phone out of his pocket.

"Fine, there. Go for it."

"Sorry," Pao-lin said, though she hadn't been the one to start the avalanche. "It's just kind of nice to have a real, traditional Christmas dinner, you know? All the parties since I came here have been buffet kind of things."

"I always thought turkey was traditional for Christmas," Kotetsu said.

"No, ham," Antonio countered. "I know your mom always did turkey, but I dunno why. It's ham."

"No, it's _tamales,_ with your family. Ham, psht."

"Yeah, tamales too. And ham. That reminds me, I got your batch of this year's tamales in the freezer at home."

"You gotta tell your mom my mailing address, man..."

"I thought it was goose," Ivan said quietly. "But if it's family traditions, Grandma always had to have borscht."

"Mm, yes, it's goose in _A Christmas Carol._ " He couldn't honestly think of any family-specific traditions; the Christmas Day gathering for the extended family was large enough that Mama felt several entrees were called for. Vegetarian included. "Stop undermining Pao-lin's first traditional Christmas, you brutes."

"Yeah!" Pao-lin was incapable of _sounding_ disheartened or discouraged, though. "And all Nathan's hard work."

"Hey, I wasn't complaining. I like beef."

"Prime rib's awesome," Kotetsu seconded.

"My family's not a good source of traditions here," Ivan said. "Unless you want third-generation Russian traditions."

"Kinda curious, actually," Kotetsu said. "I thought Russian Orthodox Christmas was later?"

"Religiously... but we still did the tree and presents on the 25th..." He was wilting a little under the attention, so Nathan whisked a plate of cake in front of him. "Secular Christmas when everyone else does it, and then we did the Russian traditional meal and mass in January. At least until Grandma died. It was mostly for her sake."

"Yeah, that's the way a lot of the time," Antonio said.

"I'm a little surprised Tiger's family had a Christmas tradition," Ivan said. "I thought it wasn't as important as New Year's..."

"Yeah, but we've been here quite a while," Kotetsu said. "I dunno if you'd call me second or third generation, depends on if you go by my mom's side or my dad's, but you know how it is."

"My family never really did much for Christmas," Pao-lin said. "That's why I'm so happy to celebrate it with everybody here this year! It's like... I dunno how to describe it."

"Establishing your family here," Nathan suggested, giving her a generous slice of cake, and ruffling her hair. She turned her head to beam at him.

 

In the end, the only one who opted to stay the night was Pao-lin, but that was more or less expected. Kotetsu and Antonio could hold their liquor, and Ivan hadn't really had that much to drink. Besides, she'd stayed over before; he'd even made sure to have a tree decorated in the guest room she always used.

Once he'd seen the other three off with little gift bags of fancy bath salts and soaps — Antonio gave his a skeptical look, so Nathan had to cozy up to him and assure him it was made of solid testosterone — he joined Pao-lin in the kitchen, where she was grazing on leftovers. "I guess now I get to do the dishes," he said with a sigh.

"I'll help!"

"No, no, you're a guest," he protested, but he was easy to wear down.

They worked in companionable silence, rinsing and scraping and loading into the dishwasher. "This is kinda nice," she said, finally. "As long as it's not ruining your manicure, I mean."

"Mm, I think I'll live." It was kind of nice. Peaceful and ordinary. "I do appreciate the help."

She hip-bumped him affectionately. "It'd be nice if everyone was here, though," she said. "Is that a little selfish?"

"I don't think so. Wanting to spend the holidays with people you like and care about?"

"Yeah, like— where was Barnaby? It always feels a little wrong to have Tiger and not him, or him but no Tiger."

"Mm-hmm. But I have a hunch he has a group of people he cares about that don't overlap so well with us."

"He does? Did he find some extended family or something?" It was a topic they'd discussed — whether there were living grandparents, aunts or uncles or more distant relations, who'd been cut off from him by the loss of his parents. "Or is he dating somebody?"

"Keep it under your hat, but he's been spending a lot of time and money on at least one children's home I know of. He seems to want to keep it quiet, but you can imagine — who's going to need more love and attention at Christmas than a group of orphans?"

"Aww." She smiled at the water. "I wish he wasn't keeping it secret. The kids might like a visit from more heroes than just him."

And she was pretty partial to babies. "I might suggest exactly that." He dried his hands and put an arm around her shoulder. "And I have a feeling Tiger's going to drag him along for brunch tomorrow."

"Didn't Tiger have plans in the morning, though? He said he'd be calling Kaede."

"That won't take all day. We'll have everybody here by afternoon, just watch."

"Unless somebody robs... what's open on Christmas?"

"Then we'll have everybody there."

She poked him in the side, but dodged his return poke. "Ho ho ho," she said, "Merry Christmas."

"And a happy arrest warrant," Nathan said. "How's some hot chocolate sound before bed?"

 

When he was little, going to bed on Christmas Eve was a painful struggle; he was too excited to get to sleep, and then too excited to stay asleep. His parents would install a small tree in his room and leave a gift or two under it, to keep him occupied, since he habitually woke at four in the morning, and they wouldn't let him open his presents until the guests had all gathered.

"That's adorable!" Pao-lin exclaimed. "I kinda wish my parents had done something for Christmas when I was young."

"I guess you could say it's a bit materialistic," he said. "It was more about the anticipation, though."

"I can do anticipation," she said. "Did you get me anything nice?"

"Apparently you _can't,"_ he retorted, with a laugh. "You'll just have to wait and see."

He did kind of miss the excitement, but that was a part of getting older. _For us, the fun part is watching you enjoy Christmas,_ his mother used to say. _You'll understand when you have kids of your own._

She'd been upset about not having grandkids, when he finally came out, or, as he saw it, addressed the elephant in the room, because surely his parents had at least suspected. As if he'd have any trouble adopting, whether he was single or married. He was just waiting till he retired from the hero business. That would be a nice part of having children, though; getting to experience all that childhood excitement and joy again, through them.

Until then, it was kind of nice to sleep in a bit on Christmas morning, to sit up and stretch knowing there was nowhere you really needed to be today. Things you needed to do, maybe, but nowhere you needed to be.

The house was silent; no one working on the house or garden, none of the soundtrack of Christmas music from last night. He queued up the Nutcracker suite, and set about coffee. Breakfast was a bigger question mark; what would feed everyone as they started to trickle in? French toast? Scrambled eggs? Maybe he'd have more ideas after caffeine entered his system.

Or after the doorbell rang. He took the coffee with him like a lifeline as he went to answer the door. There was really only one person it could be, though.

Sure enough, there was Sky High on his doorstep, smiling brightly and holding a large brown paper bag, his dog at his side. John had a festive-looking bandanna tied around his neck over his collar, and a reindeer-antler headband on his head. "I knew it," Nathan said. Naturally Sky High was a cheerful, jogging-at-dawn kind of morning person. "Merry Christmas, Sky High!"

"Merry Christmas! And Happy Christmas!" He wiped his feet carefully on the door mat. "Is it all right if John comes inside?"

"Of course." Nathan stood back to let them by. "I'm surprised John's so accepting of those reindeer antlers."

"John is a very patient dog!" As if he'd been waiting for that moment, John finished sniffing Nathan's legs and shook his head vigorously. The antler headband fell at Nathan's feet.

"But even he has his limits," Nathan said.

Sky High sighed, then held out his big paper bag. "I bought bagels! And doughnuts!"

"He may be a reindeer but _you_ are an _angel._ " Nathan took the bag, and gave Sky High a peck on the cheek; he blushed, which was even more adorable than his usual baseline cuteness. Nathan patted his face. "I was just wondering what to do about breakfast. Would you like some coffee?"

"Yes, please!"

Christmas tree lights on in daylight, the smell of coffee, the gifts under the tree — it felt like childhood Christmas mornings in a lot of ways. But he didn't actually care what was in any of the brightly-wrapped gifts. He got that sense of unwrapping anticipation each time someone knocked or rang the bell, when he went to see who it was.

Antonio brought a bottle of expensive tequila with a bow on the neck, and a grocery bag that was cold when he passed it to Nathan. "Mom always makes too damn many of those tamales," he said. "You can just keep 'em frozen till you're ready to eat them."

"How long do they need to thaw?" People might want lunch.

"Just stick 'em in the fridge, then. I gotta get something else from the car."

Something else turned out to be a box full of small gift bags. "Just some little things I sewed," he said.

"Oh, just _handmade gifts._ Nothing special." Antonio knew him too well; he pivoted to avoid the grope Nathan tried to add as punctuation to his sarcasm, and sidestepped the mistletoe.

Ivan brought a large and very light box. "Everyone's gifts are in this," he said.

"Oh, sweetie, you shouldn't have!" Maybe next year they should let Tiger have his way about organizing a Secret Santa exchange. People seemed to be inclined to give presents.

"It's nothing big," Ivan said. "It's just some things I made."

Nathan was beginning to regret never taking up any crafting hobbies. "Should I have brought presents?" Pao-lin asked, a little mournfully, as they watched Ivan place them around the tree.

"It's really nothing special!" Ivan insisted.

"The ones I'm giving are from you as well," Nathan said to Pao-lin. "It's official. You helped me pick them out whether you remember it or not. Go write your name on the tags."

There was a lull for a time, but at around ten, the doorbell rang, followed by a knock, followed by the doorbell again. "That's Kotetsu," Antonio said.

"Time to see if he brought his other half or not," Nathan said, and headed for the door, Pao-lin on his heels.

"—if you'd just stop—"

Sure enough, Barnaby was with him, trying to block Kotetsu's access to the doorbell with his body. "I'm so sorry," he said to Nathan, as soon as the door was open.

"I couldn't hear if it was ringing inside or not!"

"Just get in here, you two," Nathan said. He got his arms around both their necks, and steered them under the mistletoe so he could plant a big kiss on each guy's cheek before he released them. Pao-lin, behind him, had retrieved some kind of box one of them had left on the ground. "Gift bags," she said.

"Just a small token," Barnaby said, removing his scarf.

"Coat room's off thisaway," Kotetsu said. "And Nathan, I got a nice bottle of Scotch out in the car."

"Ooh. All these handsome men trying to get me drunk. I must have been a good girl this year!"

He'd lost Pao-lin somewhere along the way, but when he returned to the foyer with Kotetsu, she was still there, tapping at her cell phone. He'd meant to follow Kotetsu out to his car, but he stopped by Pao-lin. Checking on Karina, no doubt. "She'll be here by lunch, I'm sure," he said. "I talked to her about it yesterday."

"Yeah. She's not answering texts, though. I mean, I'm glad she's able to spend time with her family!"

"Let's hope she is, too," he said, before he stepped out the door.

The next time he saw Pao-lin check her cell phone, though, she gave him a thumbs-up; whether that meant Karina was in good spirits or fleeing the warm embrace of her family wasn't clear, but it was a positive sign all the same. He didn't pursue the subject, though. He was a little preoccupied with making sure everyone was fed, now that Sky High's pastries had been obliterated. He was fairly certain there was a fondue pot lurking, somewhere... or, he thought, they could go to that old Christmas Day standby. He should still have the takeout menu for a Chinese restaurant that had received the Pao-lin seal of approval.

 

The food had barely been ordered when the doorbell rang, meaning there was no question as to who it would be. He practically had to race Pao-lin to the front door.

"Karina, you made it!" she cried, ducking under Nathan's arm to hug her.

"Yeah, I— careful, you'll squish the bag!"

"Oh, no, you brought presents too?"

"Oh no?" Karina repeated, then tossed her hair. "Fine, I won't give you yours." 

"She's just feeling a little left out and obligated since others have been bringing gifts," he said, putting hands on both their shoulders. "So you two kiss and make up under the mistletoe."

"We weren't even fighting," Pao-lin objected. "Karina, Tiger's here!"

"Why does that matter to me?" she demanded, blushing predictably.

He let them go on ahead. Pao-lin knew where to steer her to put the gifts under the tree and her coat and purse on a bed. There was a familiar-looking car at the curb that had caught his eye.

And what exactly made it familiar? There were no stickers or dings, no familiar pattern of dust; sure, that was a pretty classic Porsche, but this was the kind of neighborhood where it didn't look out of place in the least. Maybe it was just its presence directly in front of his house, with Karina's cab already long-gone. He couldn't have spotted the woman sitting inside in the fraction of a second he'd glimpsed the car.

He closed the door gently behind him and walked outside. _Yes, Mama, I wear heels even when I'm not expecting to see you. I wear makeup even when I'm at home with my friends. Just like you._ She was, of course, just as perfectly put-together as he always aspired to be. As he approached the car, she opened her own door and stepped outside; she was wearing a cape — coats were seldom graceful enough for her — a long, flowing skirt, and spotless cream-colored gloves. Her hair still hung in the long, glorious, silky waves he'd envied all his life, though there was gray threaded through it now, most thickly at the temples.

"I'd have thought you'd still be hosting your brunch."

"Not this year. The guest list fell apart a bit — newborn grandchild, trip to Paris, illness in the family..."

"Nothing serious, I hope." It was automatic.

"No, no, just a round of the flu. That was the Ferettis. I thought about notifying you, but you'd already declined — it's not important." She shook her head. "I just wanted to... wish you a merry Christmas. On the day of."

She kept fidgeting and looking into the car, and while it was tempting to think she was just, still, awkward around the new him, the flamboyantly indiscreet son who'd burst from the ashes in his third year of university, he was fairly certain there was something else too. "You didn't need to drive all the way out here for that," he said.

"I can't give you a gift over the phone," she said.

"Fair enough." His face quirked into a smile as she walked to the back of the car to open the trunk. A gift bag, to his surprise. She'd always frowned on them, favoring careful wrapping jobs with handmade bows.

"No, I've never liked them," she said, reading his mind, "But I wanted you to be able to open it right away."

The puddle of fabric inside was pink. It was a bright, vivid shade, one of his favorites; it looked, and when he touched it, felt, like silk. He pulled it out, eyes on the scarf. How embarrassing, that he was getting choked up, but if you couldn't let your own mother see you cry...

"Don't cry," she said, as if on cue. "Your mascara's going to run. I don't care what they say, it's never truly waterproof."

"I'm trying to avoid it," he said. "Thank you, Mama. It's beautiful."

"It's nothing much," she said. He knew very well this designer's scarves were hundreds of Stern. "I just saw it and thought of you."

"It is one of my favorite shades of pink."

"Nathan," she said. "I know things have been strained at times, and your father can be a difficult man. But we're very proud of you. Both of us."

"Maybe someday I'll even hear it from him," he said, and regretted it immediately.

"You never know. _His_ father had a deathbed change of heart, after all."

He chuckled, letting the scarf slip back into the bag, and moved to hug her; she accepted it awkwardly, but she did hug him back. "Merry Christmas, Mama. Thank you."

"Merry Christmas, Nathan."

 

That afternoon, as people began to filter away — Karina back to rejoin her family for Christmas dinner, Pao-lin and Ivan to drop John off at Keith's place before going to see a movie, Antonio and Kotetsu to find a bar — Nathan gathered all of his gifts for the day at his desk in his home office.

Some soaps and bath salts from Karina; a hand-sewn stuffed flamingo, from Antonio; and an origami phoenix, from Ivan. And another, somewhat more ragged-looking one, from Pao-lin, because Ivan had helped her appease her conscience by guiding her through making origami renditions of everyone's mascots after lunch.

And the scarf from his mother. The first thing she'd ever given him in pink.


End file.
